Sick Day
by Ryo-girl
Summary: Sammy has started school, and it’s a big adjustment for everyone. Warning: Discipline fic!


Title: Sick Day

Author: **ryogirl**

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, and I'm definitely not making any money, so please don't sue!

Warnings: Spanking!

Summary: Sammy has started school, and it's a big adjustment for everyone.

* * *

Sam Winchester was now in his fourth week of kindergarten, and it seemed he was absolutely in love. With everything about school – his teacher, the other kids, the books, he even enjoyed the _homework_ that they sent home. It was slightly baffling to John, who had never particularly enjoyed school, but Sam had always been a bit of an alien creature to him, so he chalked it up to something that was simply _Sam_ and left it alone.

John had honestly been more worried about Dean's adjustment to Sam's starting school than Sam's. Before kindergarten, Sam's whole world had consisted solely on John and Dean, with maybe Bobby and Pastor Jim popping up once in awhile. Starting school opened up a whole new world for Sam, a world filled with new people, and his fascination seemed endless.

The only issue he'd ever had to deal with like this was when Dean had started training with the guns the previous year. Sam, four years old and still unaware of his father's job, had been insanely jealous, not understanding why he couldn't shoot, too. But John and Dean were in agreement that Sam should be protected from the truths of their life for as long as possible. John had told Sam he was just too little, but when he was Dean's age he would be able to start practicing, and Sam had subsided with a thunderous scowl. The crisis had been averted.

He'd honestly thought Sam starting school wouldn't be a problem. But he'd been very wrong about that.

The problems had started when Sam confessed that he had a new best friend – a boy named Jake who was, as far as John could tell, the coolest kid ever. He always bought lunch at school and always had candy, and he always shared with Sam. Jake had the coolest new toys, he had his own bike, and he had a big brother named Matt who always gave him money to buy treats.

Dean had been acting particularly nasty since Sam had spent the day at Jake's house. John had needed to work, but Sam's grade had the day off and Sam had begged to be able to go over to Jake's house. John had dropped him off, and when he had picked him up, he knew trouble was coming because apparently, Sam had a wonderful time. Without Dean.

John knew a disaster waiting to happen when he saw one. Dean was growing more and more upset every time Sam mentioned Jake or his brother, and he was being extremely nasty because of it. Sam had actually taken to finding activities that didn't involve Dean and Dean's new habit of calling Sam, Jake and school 'stupid' and that, in turn, was making Dean even more angry. John was watching a vicious cycle, and he wasn't sure what to do to fix it.

Spanking Dean for calling Sam stupid was becoming a nightly occurrence, but it wasn't helping the situation as a whole. To make matters worse, he had a job lined up – a hunt in the next town over, a routine haunting that would likely mean he'd have to get an early start to be back before dark. He'd originally wanted to wait until the weekend, but the day before the ghost had killed two teenagers who had gone into the house on what was probably a dare, so it really couldn't wait.

In the end John decided to leave early in the morning and hope he got back before the boys were out of school. The bus would drop them off and pick them up, and he trusted Dean to take care of himself and Sam for a few hours, but it still made him nervous.

The morning he was set to leave the boys were actually up early. They'd eaten breakfast, brushed their teeth, gotten dressed, and were now watching him pack from the couch.

"I shouldn't be gone long," John promised.

"But why do you hafta go?" Sam pouted, trying to use his puppy eyes on John.

"Because I have to or I'll lose my job," John said, sighing.

"But - "

"Sammy," John warned, and Sam sighed and subsided. "I should be back by 6:00, ok? I'll bring dinner."

"Pizza?" Sam asked, wriggling in excitement. He was a wriggly kid, John noted, unless he was reading, and then he was still as a statue.

"I'll bring pizza," he promised.

"Yeah!" Sam cheered. But even the promise of pizza wasn't enough to bring a smile to Dean's face and John sighed to himself. He would have to figure out a way to break through to Dean soon – he hated seeing him so upset.

"Okay, guys," John said, "Dean, you know what to do when you get home from school. Sam, what do you do if I'm not back when you get home?"

"Come inside, lock the door, don't open it for no one!" Sam chirped, his voice imitating the serious tone John had used when he'd made Sam memorize it.

"And?"

"And do whatever Dean says, 'cause he's the big brother," Sam said in a long-suffering tone he'd only recently seemed to discover. John stifled a smile.

"Right. I'll be back." John shouldered his bag and headed out, leaving the boys on the couch waiting for the bus.

* * *

Dean watched Sam color in his coloring book and scowled. Lately, Sam had been ignoring him. A lot. He insisted that he didn't need Dean to help him with his homework, he didn't need Dean to hold onto him as they walked into school, he didn't even need Dean to say goodbye to him at school anymore.

All Sam cared about was _school. _School and his new little friend Jake. Jake, who was _so cool, Dean! _

Dean was starting to think letting Sam start school had been a very bad idea.

"Dean, when will the bus get here?" Sam asked impatiently, pausing in his coloring.

Dean looked at the clock and scowled. It just seemed to rub salt in the wound that Sam was so eager to get to school every day and Dean would much rather just be at home with Sam and his dad.

"It'll get here when it gets here," he growled. "Just color in your book. Stupid."

"'M not stupid!" Sam said, scrunching up his face. Dean wanted to tell him that face was stupid, too.

"Yeah you are. Only stupid kids want to be at school all the time."

"Nuh-uh! My teacher said _smart_ kids like school."

"Your teacher is stupid, too."

"No she's not!" Sam shrieked, flushing in anger. "You're such a jerk, Dean! Why are you being mean to me? Jake's brother isn't mean to him."

Dean's scowl grew fierce. He was a better big brother than Jake's brother. He took good care of Sammy, but did Sam care? No. All he cared about was that sometimes Jake's brother gave Sam candy when he came to pick Jake up.

"I'm not being mean," Dean said, sinking back into the couch. "Stop being such a baby."

"I'm not a baby!" Sam said, rising onto his knees, a crayon clutched in his hand. Sammy was still using the thick baby crayons they only used in the lower grades, and Dean stifled the urge to tell him that he was _too_ a baby, 'cause only babies used those crayons.

But he didn't really want Sammy mad at him. He just wanted Sammy to stop talking about school _all the time. _He never asked about what Dean was doing anymore, like he used to before he started going; he'd curl up against Dean and demand to know _everything_ Dean had done, from what he learned to what he ate for lunch.

Dean just…kind of missed it.

Dean heard the bus start down their street, loud in the early morning silence. Sammy abandoned his book and hurried to his backpack, and Dean was struck with an idea.

Their dad was gone; he'd be gone until late. Probably until after they got out of school. He'd never know if they even actually went or not. He and Sam didn't have to go to school. They could just stay at the house all day, with just each other.

"Sammy," Dean called, sitting up straight on the couch. "How about we just stay here today? Watch some movies and stuff like that?"

Sam looked at him, wrinkling his brow. "But…we're supposed to go to school."

"No one will know," Dean said. "We can just…take a sick day. Lots of kids do it."

Sam bit his lip in indecision. The bus paused outside their house, the engine rumbling.

"Come on," Dean tried, "I'm way more fun than school, right?"

Sam nodded and put his backpack down again. Dean heard the bus rumble away when they didn't come out after a minute or so and turned to Sam, grinning widely.

"Ready to have some fun?" Dean asked, going into their room and breaking out his secret stash of peanut M&Ms.

The two boys spent the day together like they hadn't in awhile. Dean's stash of candy sent them on a sugar high that had them bouncing off the walls all day, playing all sorts of made up games. They brought out all the sheets, blankets and pillows from both rooms, building a fort that spanned the entire living room. They pulled out some of the pots and pans and used them as helmets and shields when they took turns storming said fort.

Dean even sat with Sam and finished coloring his entire coloring book.

Dean cooked mac and cheese for lunch, and then, in the early afternoon, they took down part of their fort to make a giant nest of blankets in front of the TV and settled down to watch their way through their small collection of movies.

And for the entire day, Sammy grinned up at Dean like his big brother was the coolest person he'd never met. He didn't mention school – or Jake – once.

* * *

John Winchester came home around 1:30, immensely relieved that he was going to be at the house when the boys got home from school. The poltergeist he'd dealt with had been taken care of with a minimum of bruises, and the cops hadn't even been called to investigate the mysterious burning at the old house. All in all, he was feeling pretty good.

At least he was until he opened the apartment door and was confronted with the disaster area that had once been his living room. All the chairs that had once been in the dining room had been moved into the living room, and most of them were overturned, including the large recliner. The kitchen floor was decorated in pots and pans, and the sink was full of dirty dishes.

And in the center of the disaster, his boys were sound asleep on what looked like every single blanket and sheet in the entire house.

John Winchester, who never froze up on a hunt, who had faced werewolves, ghosts and demons head-on without flinching, was so shocked that he stood in the doorway for almost a full minute before he shook himself out of it.

"BOYS!" he bellowed, and Sam and Dean jumped up from their makeshift bed, confused at first. When they caught sight of their father, dirty and tired and undoubtedly pissed off, their faces paled.

It was Dean who spoke, although once he saw the look on his father's face he almost wished he hadn't.

"Hey, Dad. What are you doing home so early?"

* * *

John was so furious he knew he couldn't punish the boys immediately. Besides, he was tired and in need of a shower, and the time that would take would allow him to calm down and give the boys a chance to start cleaning up their mess.

"You boys are in so much trouble," John said, dropping his bag by the door. "But I'm going to shower first, and you're going to start cleaning up this mess."

The boys looked at him nervously, shuffling their feet.

"Get to it," John said as he passed, giving them each a swat to get them going.

He got into the shower and started washing, wondering just what the hell his boys had been thinking. He'd left this morning, thinking the boys safe because they were at school, and instead found them alone inside their apartment. Thank god no one had come by and seen or heard them, or he'd have Social Services on his ass. Again.

What the hell had they been thinking?! A thousand things could go wrong with two young boys home alone, and not even a third of them had to do with something supernatural.

But he'd thought Dean was old enough to be trusted by himself, to be trusted with his brother. Nine years old, almost ten, he should have been able to follow an order as simple as 'make sure you both get to the bus on time.'

Damn it. He expected a hell of lot more out of Dean than this.

John finished his shower and got out. While he was dressing, he heard the clanking of pots in the kitchen, and he could just make out a conversation being held in furious whispers.

When he went into the living room, he saw that most of the mess was cleaned up – there were a few pots left on the counter and the blankets were mostly thrown back onto the beds; his own blankets and pillows were piled on the couch. It seemed neither boy was quite brave enough to go into his room while he was in it.

"Boys," he said. They both looked at him nervously, and he sat on the couch and motioned them to come closer. They did so reluctantly, pausing when they were just close enough for him to reach and not an inch closer.

He raised his eyebrow and they almost fell over themselves to stand right in front of him.

"Does someone want to explain to me what went on today?"

"We took a sick day, daddy!" Sammy chirped. He seemed a little confused, and John just bet he knew why.

"I see. And who told you to take a sick day?"

Sammy looked at Dean, brow furrowed. "Dean did. He says lots of kids do it."

"It was my idea," Dean spoke up, looking at John defiantly. "School's stupid. We don't need to go every day. So we took a sick day."

John was really tired of hearing the word 'stupid.'

"You don't need to go every day?" John repeated, his temper flaring. It was clear that Dean was the main culprit today.

"No, we don't," Dean said, but his defiance seemed to flag a bit. "There's nothing they teach at school I need to know."

John sighed deeply. He and Dean were going to have to have a serious talk about school soon. He didn't exactly disagree with his son – a lot of what he'd learned at school he never used again, and the time spent at school was time he could be teaching Dean, and later Sam, the tricks of their trade. But school did have its uses, and Dean needed to realize that.

"Dean, I want you to go into the kitchen and do the dishes in the sink while your brother and I talk," John said. Dean went a little pale; the last boy punished was usually the one in the most trouble. Still, he went into the kitchen, casting a guilty look at Sam, who was still looking a bit baffled.

"Daddy, I'm sorry we made a mess," Sam said tentatively. "We didn't mean to, honest!"

"That isn't what you're in trouble for, Sammy," John said, pulling the boy closer. "I told you this morning to go to school. You didn't. You stayed home with Dean all day."

"But Dean said we could!" Sam protested. "He said lots of kids don't go to school some days!"

"But you knew that I had already told you to go," John said reasonably, pulling Sam's pants down. Sam protested until John landed a swat on his underwear-clad bottom.

"Sam," John said, voice hard. "I told you to do something. You didn't do it. You have to be punished."

He put Sam over his knee, pulled his underwear down, and started spanking. Sammy immediately yelped and wriggled, crying,

"But Dean said not to go to school today!"

"Sammy, I told you this morning to go to school. You knew you were supposed to go, but you listened to Dean instead." John set to work making Sam's butt pink – not too hard, but hard enough to convince his boy that his orders were to be obeyed.

"But I'm _'sposed_ to listen to Dean!" Sammy wailed indignantly as the swats landed. John stifled a smile and spanked a little harder, watching Sam's bottom pink slowly. Sam protested every spanking, no matter how wrong he'd been. John was not looking forward to Sam's teen years.

"You listen to me first, Dean second," John scolded. "You knew it was wrong, but you did it anyway." He started alternating between harder swats on Sam's bottom and lighter ones on his sit spot, and Sam started howling.

"'M sorry, Daddy!" he cried, trying to use one of his hands to cover his butt. John grabbed it and held it lightly, not pausing in his swats. "I'll be good, I promise! I won't never listen to Dean again!"

"You listen to Dean except when you know he's wrong, Sam," John corrected, starting to lighten his spanks. Sam was practically gasping now, and his butt was bright pink. "That way you don't get in trouble."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sam cried. John stopped spanking and gently drew Sam's underwear up, not bothering with his jeans. Sam climbed up into his lap immediately when John started to move him, and sat there sobbing, clinging hard.

John rubbed his back and stood up, carrying Sam into his room and sitting down on the bed.

"I'm really sorry, Daddy," Sam sighed. "I won't be bad anymore."

"I know," John soothed, "I know. You're a good boy, Sammy."

"I'll go to school every day. No more sick days," Sam sniffed and wriggled in John's arms, trying to shift his sore bottom.

John laughed at that. "It's okay to take sick days if you're _actually sick. _Now, how about you lay here and rest for a little bit?"

"Okay Daddy," Sam sighed, already laying on his belly. John drew up the light sheet that was at the foot of the bed and kissed Sam's hair.

"I love you Daddy," Sam said softly, eyes closed.

"I love you too, buddy," John said, going to the door. "I'll see you in a bit."

Dean was done with the dishes when John went into the kitchen; he was standing at the sink, back rigid, eyes forward.

"Dean, come with me, please," John said, going back to the couch. When Dean stood in front of him, John took a minute to just look at him.

Today had been a product of a larger problem. John knew exactly why Dean had decided the boys should take a 'sick day' – so he could spend the day with his little brother all to himself. And John wasn't exactly sure if he should punish him for that. He wanted his boys to prefer each other over everyone else – with their way of life, it was just better to be that way.

Dean needed to be punished for disobeying a direct order, especially since he was old enough to understand that someone finding out that they were home, alone, ditching school could mean a visit from Social Services. But, more importantly, John needed to get the _reason_Dean had done it out in the open.

"Dean, you know what you did today was wrong. I told you to go to school. You _know_ that, unless I say otherwise, you're to go to school. There are a hundred things that could have happened to you boys while you were here alone, and you would have been _alone. _Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Dean mumbled, chewing on his lip and avoiding John's eyes.

"Are you? Or are you just sorry you got caught?"

Dean bit his lip hard as his eyes watered. He was nine years old, not a baby anymore – he didn't need to start crying, especially when his dad hadn't even done anything yet.

"I _am_ sorry," Dean said, "I just –"

"Just what?" John prodded gently, when Dean didn't say anything more. Dean clenched his jaw and stood straighter, but didn't open his mouth again.

"All right," John sighed. "Pants and underwear off, Dean."

Dean straightened his back briefly, then pulled off his pants and underwear and John guided him over his lap. He grabbed Dean's wrist before he did anything, holding it firmly. Then he started spanking.

He usually gave the boys a warm-up period, but not this time. He went right for Dean's sit-spot, wanting to get this part over so he could get at what was eating Dean up inside.

Dean took in a shocked breath at the immediate pain his father's swats produced, but after that one sound, he bit his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. He wasn't a baby, he wouldn't cry, and he honestly didn't feel sorry for the day spent with Sam.

But he did feel guilty about abusing his father's trust in him, which was why John's words brought tears to his eyes.

"When I leave you and Sammy alone, Dean, I give you orders to make sure you're safe," John said, moving up to Dean's buttocks, turning the flesh pale pink. Dean started squirming. "I trust you to take care of your brother, make sure he's safe. And disobeying my orders is _not_ keeping your brother safe!"

"But nothing happened!" Dean protested, voice thick with tears he wouldn't let fall. John slowed his swats slightly, trying to encourage him to keep talking. "He was perfectly fine!"

"And what if there had been something here, Dean? Say something happened, Sammy had gotten hurt somehow, and I got held up at that haunting," John scolded, starting to focus his swats on one cheek and then the other. They were solid, slow swats, not quick and light like he'd given Sammy.

"You're here with Sammy, and he needs a doctor for something. You have to call me, and I have to come home, leave innocent people in danger, because Sammy was here when he should have been at school, and he got hurt," John continued. "How will you feel if that happens?"

"I'm _sorry! _" Dean finally broke down and sobbed. "I didn't mean – I didn't think – "

"You didn't think," John said gently, stopping the spanking for a minute. "You're still a kid, Dean, you're not perfect. But you _have_ to think before you make decisions! You're old enough now that I shouldn't have to explains this to you."

"I know! I…" Dean heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly, and John gently lifted him onto his lap and hugged him close.

"I just wanted him to stop talking about school _all the time_," Dean whispered, wiping snot and tears on John's shirt. "That's all he cares about, and I just…I got jealous."

"You wanted to keep him to yourself for a little longer," John said quietly, rubbing his back. "I felt like that with both you boys. I honestly would have thought you would have _enjoyed_ not having him followin' you around all the time."

"I thought so too," Dean said miserably, pulling back to meet his father's eyes. "And it was okay for awhile, but…I thought things would go back to the way they used to be, once it wasn't so new anymore."

"Me, too," John agreed. "But Sammy likes school, a lot more than I did."

"Freak," Dean muttered, leaning against John's chest. "What kind of weirdo _likes_ school?"

John chuckled. "Sammy does. He's good at it, I think. I always knew he was smart for his age – I'm sure part of it was he was always bored just sittin' around the house, waiting for you to come home."

"He used to be really excited when I came home," Dean said sadly. "Now all he talks about is those kids he plays with. It's not fair."

John smiled at the rare show of petulance from his usually grown-up boy. "Listen, Dean-O. Sammy will always be your brother. We aren't staying here forever. These kids won't mean anything to him, but you'll always be his big brother. And I have something to tell you – Sammy _does_ still think you're the coolest kid in the world, Dean."

"No he doesn't," Dean muttered, but there was a tentative hope in his eyes that John smiled to see.

"Sure he does. Who's the first person he talks to when he gets home? Who does he make all those paintings for? Who does he _beg_ to play with him once his homework is done?"

"Me," Dean muttered, his face clearing a little.

"You," John agreed. "You think he does that with any of those other kids? _You_ are the one he wants, Dean. But that doesn't mean he can't have fun at school, too."

"I guess so," Dean said, relaxing against his chest. "I still don't get it."

"Me either," John laughed. "But I haven't understood Sammy since he learned to talk, so I'm not too worried. There's one other thing, Dean. What do you think it is?"

Dean bit his lip and looked away again. "Stop bein' mean to Sammy."

"Right. You're boys, brothers, I expect a certain amount of teasing – but stop calling things stupid, Dean. I meant it, you hear?"

"Yessir," Dean mumbled, hugging him tightly. After a minute, he spoke up, "My butt hurts. Did you hafta spank so hard?"

"Are you saying you didn't deserve it?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. "You've been kind of a brat lately, Dean."

Dean flushed. "I know," he muttered, making himself comfortable on John's lap. "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. You're a good boy, Dean – you just have to make better choices."

"'kay, Dad," Dean muttered, sounding a bit drowsy. Judging by the candy wrappers he'd seen on the floor, he was partly convinced Dean and Sam were both still in the midst of a sugar crash, so he rose with Dean in his arms – something Dean was usually very touchy about – and went into the boys' room. Sammy was curled up on his stomach, but he wasn't quite asleep yet. John tucked Dean in, then went to Sam and tucked him in, too, earning a sleepy smile for his trouble.

He'd let them sleep for a bit and wake them up when dinner was ready. He had a feeling there were some things they needed to deal with together, anyway.

* * *

Dean rolled over in his own bed, face wet and butt flaming. He heard Sammy shift in his own bed and turned his head, not wanting his little brother to see his humiliation.

"Dean?" Sammy whispered. Dean didn't answer. Behind him, Sammy slipped out bed. He walked to Dean's bed and paused, putting his arms on the bed and resting his head on them.

"Hey, Dean? You got into big trouble, huh?"

Dean buried his face farther into his pillow, his back rigid. Sam was quiet for a minute, and then he crawled onto Dean's bed, careful to stay away from his bottom.

"I'm sorry you got in trouble, Dean," Sammy whispered, sounding genuinely upset. "But…I'm not sorry we had a sick day today."

Dean turned his head to look at his brother in disbelief. "You're not?"

Sammy shook his head, grinning widely. "Except for getting in trouble, this was the best day ever!"

Dean turned over onto his other side, hissing as his bottom rubbed the blanket. "Even more fun than when you go over to Jake's house?"

"Uh-huh. Jake's brother doesn't make forts with him, or cook mac and cheese. He just gives Jake candy all the time," Sammy leaned forward and whispered, "Actually, I think he just does it so Jake will leave him alone."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. He tells Jake he'll give him candy if he goes away and plays by himself. You won't do that, will you?"

"'Course not," Dean scoffed, even though he'd used that trick once or twice and Sam just didn't remember. "I'm not that kinda brother."

"Can we do this again?" Sam asked eagerly, getting under the blankets with Dean.

"Are you crazy? Do you _want_ to get spanked again?"

"No, I mean, can we play all day again? You and Dad are always busy with Daddy's guns, and I'm not allowed to play with you." Sam said seriously.

Dean wanted to tell him that they weren't _playing_ with the guns, they were _training_, but honestly he didn't want Sam to know about the monsters out there, so he just said,

"Yeah, we can do it again. This weekend, ok?"

"Promise?"

"I promise," Dean said. Sammy snuggled into him, and Dean threw his arm around his brother, starting to believe what his father said was true – his little brother's circle of people had apparently extended, but Dean was still at the center of it.

That was totally worth the spanking he'd received.

* * *

When John woke the boys for dinner, they shuffled in obediently, still looking a bit tired. The first half of dinner was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. John had ordered the promised pizza, and was amusing himself by watching Sammy try to judge exactly how much he could fit in his mouth and still get it closed.

"There's two whole pizzas here, dude," he said lightly. "It's not going to disappear."

Sammy said something around a mouthful of pizza, and the view made John wince. Even Dean had paused in his chewing, eying his brother like he was some sort of attraction at the local zoo.

Sam swallowed and John was going back to his own dinner when Sam said suddenly,

"Daddy, can we take a sick day?"

"…what?"

"Can we take a sick day? All of us? Like Dean and me did today?"

"Dean and I," John corrected absently, looking at his boys. Dean wasn't looking at him all, but John highly doubted his pizza was all that interesting. Sammy, however, was using his puppy dog eyes, and John honestly had no idea where they had come from because Mary hadn't ever done that and John sure as hell never did.

"Why do you want to take a sick day, Sammy?"

"So we can all play together. Everyone's always busy, we haven't played in _forever_." Sammy sighed dramatically. John flicked a glance at Dean, and then at the papers he'd left on the counter.

There was probably a hunt waiting for him. People's lives were important.

But so were his boys, and right now it was looking like his boys needed a day with their dad. John had a feeling those days would become almost non-existent the more the boys grew, and he was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness. His boys wouldn't stay boys forever, after all.

"Sure, Sammy," John smiled. "We'll take a sick day. How's tomorrow? We'll go find an arcade or something, have some fun."

"Yay!" Sammy cried, obviously ecstatic, and Dean's grin was no less bright, even though he tried to hide it.

John smiled and went back to eating, already planning the next day. One day wouldn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, and his boys wanted him.

Tomorrow, he would be just be somebody's dad, not a hunter looking for his next job. He was kind of looking forward to it.

* * *

_A/N: I seriously have no idea where this is coming from. I write fic rarely - it took me close to a year to finish my _House _fic - and now I've churned out two of these close together! It's because of all the wonderful people involved in the __**spnspankings**__ community - you guys are seriously awesome and definitely make a girl feel welcome!_

_This fic in particular just __**never wanted to end**__. I had planned this to be short, actually, and over 3 days it just kept going and going like the freaking energizer bunny! That's never happened to me before. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it!_


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